Broken
by Livs Torres
Summary: Shemlens vs The Dalish


The glow of the campfire surrounded me with the warmth of the night. It felt nice in the chilly air of the Brecilian Forest, where we had set up camp for the night. The others except for Alistair and I, who sat by the fire's burning embers.

A wind swept by us, bringing along the scent of pine needles with it. As a Dalish elf, I could appreciate the forest's perfume. It made me think of home and my clan. Oh, how I missed them. I especially missed Tamlen, who was lost to the darkspawn some months ago. I missed him fervently; my heart ached for him every single day. I miss him terribly. One day, however, I would find him. I would never give up on him. Never.

I looked around at my companions, or at least, their tents. It was the middle of the night, and I couldn't sleep. Nightmares always kept me awake. They always managed to do so. But, every night, Alistair would hold me until I stopped crying and would wait for me to fall back into the abyss. I don't know what I'd do without him. I glanced at him quickly. He was staring off into space with one arm draped over a suspended knee – his usual position. His golden hair radiated in the fire's glow, and his coffee-painted eyes gazed at something in front of him. I didn't know what, but I didn't care to look at what it was. He was too perfect to turn away from.

Eventually, he noticed me staring at him. his lips curled upward into a small smile, and he raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"What?" he asked.

I wanted to melt into a pile of goo when I heard his Fereldan accent pervade the air. Everything about him was just godly.

I realized that he was still waiting for an answer, and so I shrugged nonchalantly.

"I love you." His smile turned into a full blown grin and he ran a hand through his cropped hair. He was blushing.

"I love you too."

He then scooted over next to me near the campfire so that our bodies were touching. Raising a hand, he brushed it along the curls at the nape of my neck, holding the nape of the skin there as he leaned forward. In response, I touched his cheekbones, trailing my fingers down the sharpness of them before allowing our lips to touch. He sighed through his mouth, and used his other hand to hold the small of my back to him. When the kiss broke, however, I began to feel my blood blush the rest of my body, I pulled him in for another kiss, playfully grasping the sides of his head so that he couldn't escape from me. Not this time.

He seemed surprised. His hold on me loosened just for the tiniest fraction of a moment before his mouth moved just as quickly as mine. He held me tighter, using his strength to pull me against his muscular chest. He moved his hands to my neck before his lips started to travel the length there, and I was soon gasping for air underneath this touch.

"My tent," I managed to choke out into his ear.

Again, he seemed hesitant. We broke contact once more before I grasped his hand and half-dragged him into the folds of the frail establishment. I needed him, and I needed to be close to him. I just needed him. Needed Alistair. "I love you," he whispered as we half collapsed onto the cold, hard ground. I ran my hand over the length of his back and helped him tug off his tunic. It left me in awe. His muscles were so defined… so sharp, I thought I might faint. I pressed my hands against all of the skin on his torso and he smiled his lop-sided smile at me as he brushed a strand of hair away from my ear.

"I hope you know that I love you, Lyna," he continued.

"I do." He kissed my hand.

Now, this wasn't the first time we had been intimate. But it was the second, and so we were still learning what to do. It was a process, I think. And although we were comfortable with one another, we were also easily embarrassed, and were afraid of doing anything to provoke those feelings. He was perfect though, and he was mine. I just couldn't help it.

Inching closer, he hitched a leg of mine around his waist as he pressed forward so that he could be closer to me. He placed me against himself, cleverly managing to keep the bulk of his weight off of me. He touched my chin and smiled again.

"You will be the death of me."

Nestling his face into my collarbone, I could feel his lips part at the skin there, leaving trails of kisses down my neck. He pushed up the edges of my elven-crafted shirt and he started making his mark on my stomach, playfully brushing his whiskers against the softness there. I giggled. This continued on for awhile until He pulled me upright so that my knees were on either sides of his waist.

"May I?" he softly whispered.

I nodded and he pushed up the rest of my woven shirt, peeling it off of my arms so that only a cloth wrap covered myself. He seemed content with that and pressed his mouth against my shoulder, gently laying us back down. I loved how warm his body was against my own. Mine had gone cold from the anxiety of the situation. He seemed to know what he was doing, however.

"You are so beautiful," he said as he looked into my eyes. Our irises clashed, green against brown and he pressed our foreheads together before kissing mine.

Hitching the other leg around his waist we were completely intertwined, except for the trousers covering our waists. He writhed on top of me ever so slightly as our mouths worked together in unison, and he breathed a sigh of relief, as if he was in pain. I could tell that he was restraining himself – his breathing had gone ragged and his muscles had become clenched. He probably didn't want to move too fast for fear of making me uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he seemed so happy to be like this with me, and that made me happy also.

He stroked my neck again, and brought his hands to my cheeks, accidentally brushing by the tips of my pointed ears.

I freaked.

Shivering, I kicked him away as hard as I could and rolled over to the side, scrambling to my knees. His mouth dropped in horror and his eyes showed fear and confusion.

"Lyna! I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you? What did I do? Tell me! Please…I'm sorry."

I tried to hold it together but just couldn't. A sob racked my body and tears streamed down my face in torrents and I couldn't help but gasp for air as memories filled my tormented mind.

I could tell Alistair wanted to take me in his arms but he seemed scared to do so, and so he stayed, kneeled on the cold ground, his perfect body half naked in the dim light of the fire outside.

"Lyna?"

I kept crying uncontrollably. I just couldn't stop doing it. It was minutes until I could calm myself down, but I could still feel the salty, warm water on my cheeks.

Slowly, I crawled myself over to where he kneeled and took his hands in my own. He looked confused still, and he made no attempt to move me at all.

I picked up one of his hands and brought it to my elven ear, shuddering when the tips of his fingers brushed along its cartilage. He still seemed lost. I allowed him to study the length of the skin for awhile, and then I guided his fingers to its back, where the cartilage and skin on my neck connect. He gasped, and yanked his hand away.

"Oh, Lyna…"

I continued to cry and he made an attempt to pull me into his arms, pulling me into his lap so that I my shoulder pressed into his chest. He rocked us back and forth comfortingly, like a mother would a daughter. He waited until I started talking.

"It was years ago. I was hunting in the woods when a few shemlen found me. I ran, but they were faster. They pinned me down and… and…"

"Shhh…" Alistair whispered. "You're safe now."

I choked out another sob and shuddered once more in his grasp. He held me tighter.

"They pinned me down… they… took out a knife. They called me knife-ears. They said that it was exactly what I needed. They said they would make me human like the rest of them."

Still rocking us, he put his lips in my hair, kissing my forehead gently.

"It seemed like hours, what they did to me. There was blood everywhere. They cut halfway through the skin there until more Dalish found us in the forest. They heard my screaming."

I could feel Alistair's breathing stop completely, and when I glanced up at him, his eyes were hard and his jaw was clenched.

"Are they dead?"

I nodded.

"My clansmen killed them."

He sighed a breath of relief and continued to hold me in his chiseled arms.

I cried.


End file.
